


I Wanna Be Your Lover

by Hatterized



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A very tired Simon, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Rick is a slutty drunk, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatterized/pseuds/Hatterized
Summary: Negan and Rick have been on the cusp of something for months, and a night of drinking helps get everything out in the open.





	I Wanna Be Your Lover

Negan wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he asked Rick out for a couple drinks- maybe Rick would just loosen up for once in his damn life and they could just shoot the shit over a couple beers and some darts. Maybe he’d convince Rick to get a little wild and do some shots with him, see just what Rick was like when he gets drunk off his ass-Negan had this idea in his head that Rick would be a goofy drunk. He’d get three shots in and be giggling his cute ass right off the barstool, he’d finally give Negan’s jokes more than an amused eyeroll, maybe he’d even try to join in on the people singing shitty karaoke renditions of My Heart Will Go On or some equally hilarious shit like that. Something for him to get video of to tease Rick with when he sobered up the next morning, granted that Negan wasn't up there making a fool out of himself too.

He would have been happy with a goofy drunk Rick. But this…he’s more than fucking happy about _this_.

They’d gotten to Negan’s bar of choice- a quiet little place going by the name of _Roamer’s_ that was owned by his good pal Simon- about an hour ago. It was a few notches above a dive- not a swanky joint by any means, but it had character: a couple pool tables and some dartboards, dark wood and green light and a nice, heady atmosphere that nearly felt like a second home to Negan for how much time he’d spent there over the years. It wasn’t quite a hole in the wall- Simon definitely had his regulars, Negan among them, but it was rarely, if ever, busy, even on a Friday night like this. Probably had something to do with the shiny new sports bar less than a mile down the road, but Simon was unbothered by the competition.

“They may have their shitty, freezer-burned hot wings in fifty-seven different flavors, but I’d bet my right nut that they don’t have my cardamom gelato,” He’d told Negan. And it was true- they didn’t, and Simon’s gelato was damned delicious.

The offer to take Rick out drinking had been a carefully thought out one that he’d spent about a week building up to. He’d had his eye on Rick since he had moved in across the street almost three months ago, and this was far from the first time they’d been alone together. It had started off with accidental run-ins: bumping into each other at the grocery store, picking up their mail at the same time, Rick mowing his lawn while Negan washed his car. They’d talked each time, and Negan had felt an instant connection- and attraction- to his new neighbor.

And then Negan had started showing up at Rick’s door, just looking for someone to spend a bit of time with. He’d prefaced it as if it was for Rick’s benefit- _“Oh, I’m just trying to be fuckin’ neighborly, Rick. Make you feel welcome. You’re used to all that southern hospitality, right?”_ \- because he was an asshole like that. But really, he wanted to spend time with Rick. He was sweet, if a bit reserved, and hot as hell with his long, curly hair and scruffy beard and bright blue eyes.

So they started getting closer, Rick opening up to him bit by bit about why he and his two kids had made the move up from King County, Georgia, to Negan’s own Virgina. As it turned out, Rick needed a change of scenery after his wife, Lori, had passed away.

The loss of a wife was something that Negan was intimately familiar with, having lost his own wife, Lucille, to cancer a little over a year ago. And maybe that was what bonded them together so closely, because after they finally got that out in the open, they were nearly inseparable, and Negan found himself at the Grimes household more often than he was at his own home. Not that he minded one bit- it was a nice change of pace, being around other people so often. Usually, the only socialization Negan got was at work or with Simon at _Roamer’s_.

The thing was, lately, he’d picked up on something with Rick whenever they were together. He started catching lingering looks, saw the way Rick leaned in a little closer than what was strictly necessary when they talked. And that had gotten Negan to thinking that maybe his attraction to Rick wasn’t as one-sided as he’d previously thought.

Which had led him to taking a risk asking Rick out for a couple drinks tonight. Rick had surprised him by saying yes immediately and setting up a sitter for Judith and letting Carl spend the night at his friend Sophia’s. Negan had expected a bit of _umm_ ing and hesitation, but Rick seemed just as eager as he was to take a night for themselves.

More proof that he was interested in Negan in a less-than-platonic way…or at least Negan hoped that was the case. But either way, they’d walked into Roamer’s, waved a hello to Simon, and then grabbed a booth together in the corner. It had taken some convincing, but Rick had actually consented to taking shots, which led them to… whatever the hell is going on right now.

Currently, Rick is heavily inebriated, slurring his words just a touch, laughing more freely than he normally would. His cheeks are flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and he’s leaning forward into Negan’s space from across the table. He’s up on his knees in the booth to do it, his elbows resting against the tabletop as he sways toward Negan.

Negan’s having the time of his goddamned life with it, too. Rick looks fucking _cute_ like this, talking animatedly with his hands as he drunkenly describes his first day on the job as a police officer back when he worked for the King County Sheriff Department.

“And then- then Shane said, he said ‘ _there’s no fucking way I’m gonna miss an opportunity to see an old man dancin’ naked in the middle of town square!’_ ” Rick guffaws loudly, taking another swig of his scotch and soda- they’d ditched the shots after a few rounds, and Negan’s not sure how many of those Rick has had. Come to think of it, he’s not sure how many _he’s_ had- judging by the way the edges of his vision are blurred and he keeps catching himself grinning in a goofy, open-mouthed way, it’s probably one or two past the line of tipsy straight into flat out-drunk.

He doesn’t mind in the least, though- that was the whole point of tonight, right? The alcohol warms him up and makes Rick the center of his world, the only thing his eyes can focus on. Negan roars with laughter at the image of a young Rick, fresh out of the academy, called to deal with a drunk and disorderly senior citizen on his first day on the job. “What’d you fucking do?”

“What else could we do?” Rick crows, “We found a spare shock blanket in the back of the squad car, and we wrapped that fucker up like a- like a damn burrito!” They both burst into uproarious laughter, and Negan hears a couple other bar patrons shush them- to which he responds with twin middle fingers.

_Like Simon’s gonna kick me out._

Rick downs the rest of his scotch and bangs his glass back down on the table, a sudden not-quite-sober ferocity burning in his blue eyes, scorching Negan. “We gotta play darts now,” he says, with such resolute seriousness that Negan starts laughing again. He’s abruptly jolted out if it when Rick grabs his arm, half his body on the tabletop for how far he’s leaning over it now. “Negan!” He cries, shaking him, “I fuckin’ mean it!”

Negan _really_ likes how much Rick swears when he’s drunk.

He also likes how Rick’s fingers feel wrapped around his wrist, so he lets Rick pull him out of his seat and over to the corner of the bar where the dartboards are. There’s a hint of a stumble in Negan’s wait when he stands up- he’s more dunk than he thought, apparently.  Rick is smiling in a mischievous manner that is usually present on Negan’s own face, and it’s…a damn good look on him. He plucks the darts out of their place on the board and hands one to Negan, setting the rest aside on a table. Negan pulls his arm back and is just about to throw when Rick stops him, arms flailing.

“No, no!” He cries, laughing, “You gotta let me help you.”

Negan shoots him a sassy look, laughing loud and guffawing and probably drawing more attention to the two of them. “It’s _darts_ , Rick, I’ve actually played this before. Pretty sure I know how to aim by my own goddamned self-” He abruptly chokes on his words when Rick slinks up behind him, one hand sliding over his hip to press their bodies flush against each other while the other comes up to guide Negan’s wrist.

“I’m a cop, Negan! I’m a real good shot.” Rick protests with mock seriousness- or perhaps real seriousness, it’s hard to tell in his drunken state. “You gotta-” Rick hiccups against Negan’s back, laughing, “-you gotta take a second and aim, Negan.” He’s saying something else, but Negan’s suddenly finding it rather hard to concentrate with Rick wriggling up against his back. The hand on Negan’s waist has roamed up to his stomach, and he can feel the heat of the touch seeping through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Negan holds his breath, feeling Rick’s fingers trace playful circles against him, occasionally dipping a smidge too low and just barely brushing the waistband of his jeans…

“Okay, now throw!” Rick whispers against Negan’s neck, and Negan shudders slightly at the warmth of breath against the sensitive skin. He lets the first dart fly- a bit distractedly- and nearly misses the board altogether.

“Shit,” He mutters.

Rick chuckles against his shoulder, a soft, rumbling sound that Negan feels more than hears. “Guess I better keep helpin’ you, huh?” He teases.

Like Negan’s about to complain about Rick staying pressed so very close to him. “Guess so, Rick,” he breathes.

Rick hands him the next dart and guides his hand again, and Negan honestly tries to focus this time. He throws, and the second dart hits a little closer to the bullseye. The next one actually hits the outer ring, which is nothing short of sheer luck with how drunk they both are, but Rick cheers in his ear nonetheless, squeezing him tight. “There you go!”

It’s while Negan’s trying to aim the fourth dart that Rick decides to start being distracting again. His hand starts to wander- a little further up Negan’s chest, and then down a bit more, toying with the hem of Negan’s shirt.

Negan finds it very hard to concentrate on breathing all of a sudden, much less on hitting the dartboard. Rick is warm and firm behind him, and the next thing he knows, Rick’s warm palm is creeping under his shirt and pressed flat against his bare stomach.

He can’t help how he jolts at the soft touch of Rick’s fingers, sending the dart flying. It hits a metal napkin holder and pings right off loudly, making a couple of nearby patrons shoot them disapproving looks.

“Oi! Negan! Learn how to fuckin’ aim, man!” Simon barks from behind the bar, half-laughing. Negan flips him off and he can hear Rick laughing into the back of his shirt. He turns into Rick, feeling warm from both the alcohol thrumming through his veins and the close contact with the smaller man.

“I don’t think darts is the best idea when we’re this fuckin’ drunk, Rick,” he says, and the man’s name leaves his lips like a purr. Rick nods eagerly up at him, his face suddenly breaking into a grin.

“C’mere, then,” he says, pulling Negan along behind him and back to their booth, “I gotta- gotta show you somethin’.” Negan lets himself be led, lets Rick sit him down at the booth. Rick leans down, smiling conspiratorially, and he smells like whiskey and cologne and _Rick_ , and all Negan wants to do in that moment is bury his face in the crook of Rick’s neck and breathe in that delicious scent. It takes a large amount of willpower to not hook a finger into the front of Rick’s shirt and drag him down a little more when he gets in Negan’s face to whisper, “Stay here, I’m gonna be right back.”

Negan very nearly grabs him by the hips and pulls him into the booth beside him, not wanting him to leave for even a second. He settles for shamelessly watching the lilting sway of Rick’s hips and the curve of his ass as he walks over to the jukebox on the other side of the room and leans forward to start flipping through songs.

 _Fuck, that’s a nice ass_ , Negan thinks to himself. The things he’d _do_ to that ass if given the chance…hell, the things he’s _already_ thought of doing to it. He’s not the least bit ashamed to admit that Rick has been the star of the majority of his waking- and sleeping- fantasies as of late. The way he’s looking right now, all clad in tight black jeans and swaying his hips slightly to the music- fuck, all he wants to do it stride right over and jerk Rick’s pants down to his ankles and take him right there, bent over the jukebox while Prince serenades them. He can picture it all too easily, Rick’s fingers gripping the edges of the machine while Negan fucks him, making the sweetest little noises and-

“Love this song!” Rick cries out in delight, making his way back over to Negan. Negan shakes his head to clear away the fog of lustful thoughts, feeling like his brain is swimming in the remnants of his last scotch. He grins easily, if a little sloppily due to the drinking.

“You gonna dance for me, Rick?” He prompts, tongue in cheek, and Rick laughs, crawling into the booth beside him, his body turned toward Negan. He’s sitting as close as he can get without being in Negan’s lap, and it’s driving Negan up the wall a little to feel the warmth radiating off of Rick’s body.

“Would you like that, Negan?” Rick drawls.

Negan’s control over his vulgar mouth is precarious even when sober- drunk him doesn’t have a chance in hell of keeping his filthy thoughts reigned in. “Fuck _yeah_ I would, Rick. Bet you’d look- look real fuckin’ good. Real fuckin’ sexy.” There’s probably a rational side of him screaming to shut up and not say anything else that may fuck up his friendship with his possibly-not-into-men friend, but that part of him was silenced after the first couple rounds of shots.

Rick seems to be unbothered, though. In fact, judging by the way his mouth has just curved into a sweet, lopsided grin, he doesn’t mind at _all_. He wriggles in closer, his hand sliding warm and teasing up the inside of Negan’s thigh. “You think so?” He asks, all sweetness and flirtation.

Negan nods eagerly, one hand shooting forward to rest on Rick’s knee because _holy hell_ , he’s been waiting for months to be able to touch Rick like this. “I fuckin’ _know_ so, baby.” If Rick has anything to say about the pet name, he doesn’t say so, and Negan feels overly triumphant at that. _Baby, baby, baby_ , he replays the word over and over in his head, picturing himself crooning it into Rick’s ear as he’s buried inside of him. “You gonna do it?”

Rick shakes his head, grinning. A loop of long, curling hair falls over his forehead, and Negan is torn between wanting to push it back and letting it stay there because it’s cute as fuck. “Too shy,” he whispers conspiratorially, like it’s a secret. He inches closer, one leg sliding over so that he’s straddling Negan’s knee, and Negan’s breath hitches in his throat. He leans in so close that his lips are brushing Negan’s ear as he speaks, an electric touch that lights Negan up like a livewire. “You like me, Negan?”

The question is such an understatement that Negan barks out a goofy laugh. Rick pulls back at that, hurt written all over his pretty face, and Negan is instantly abashed, taking him by the hips so that Rick doesn’t leave his lap. “No, no, baby! I’m not laughing at you. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry- didn’t mean it like that-” he fumbles his words, all of his usual suaveness dissolved by his drunkenness and, if he’s honest, by Rick being so close to him. Something about the man makes Negan’s brain fizzle out like firecrackers in water. “I like you. I like you a _whole_ fuckin’ lot, Rick, you have no fuckin’ idea.”

His answer makes Rick’s smile reappear, and Negan’s so distracted by how goddamn good he looks when he smiles so genuinely that he doesn’t register that Rick’s moving for a second. Rick’s arms come up to loop around his neck, and suddenly Negan is met with a lapful of Rick Grimes. How he managed to squirm his way onto Negan like this without knocking over one of their mostly-empty glasses or jostling the table, Negan isn’t sure.

He briefly wonders what the hell he did to deserve something this wonderful and decides not to think too hard on it. With his luck, he’ll wake up any second and realize that this whole evening has been one big dream.

He goes so far as to pinch himself hard on the leg. Rick is still straddling him.

Holy _shit_.

Rick is looking down at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes, and he subtly rocks his hips into Negan’s. “You like me like _this_?” He asks, and there’s an adorably unsure, needy undertone to his question that does not _at all_ match how bold he’s being. Negan nods, all too eager to reassure him, his hands rubbing over Rick’s jean-clad thighs and up to his hips, thumbs catching in his beltloops.

“ _Fuck_ yeah I like you like this, Rick. Jesus, you don’t even know what you do to me.” Or maybe he does, because there’s no way that Rick’s not going to notice the rapidly growing problem in Negan’s pants the way he’s sitting right now. One more slow roll of his hips, and Rick’s own crotch brushes against it, making both of their eyes go wide. Rick’s mouth falls open just slightly, his full lips parted invitingly.

“You _really_ like me,” Rick gloats, leaning in closer so that he’s whispering in Negan’s ear again. “Do I make you hard, Negan?” he asks, low and sultry.

Negan growls, his cock giving a hard twitch through the confines of his jeans. “ _Fuck_ , Rick. You make me so fucking hard. I know you can feel it.”

Rick smiles, wicked and sultry, and gives another filthy roll of his hips. “You wanna fuck me, Negan?”

Negan’s hands slide back to grope eagerly at Rick’s ass, squeezing and rubbing him greedily. “Oh, I wanna fuck you so fuckin’ bad, Rick. I think about it all the fucking time, you on your back for me, stripped down and squeezing me so tight while I fuck you.” The words just bubble out of him, months of built-up tension and flirtation that he bit back on suddenly overflowing out of him. “You want that, baby? You want me to put my dick in you?”

Rick’s face is devilish as he grabs one of Negan’s hands and guides it between his own legs. He presses his hardness into Negan’s hand, thrusting against it needily. “Yes,” he whines softly, “Negan, I want you to fuck me. Want you to strip me and- and make me yours. Spread my legs and give it to me so hard I can’t walk right after.”

Negan can hardly breathe, and he can feel how hot his face is. He’s sweating beneath the collar of his thin shirt, and he’s glad that he opted to shed his leather jacket once they got to the bar. Rick’s not any better off, though- he’s flushed all the way down his neck, the color spilling even lower, disappearing with a light smattering of chest hair beneath the button-up he’s wearing. He can barely believe how fucking bold Rick is being, and if he was in a more sober frame of mind, he’d likely be saying a prayer of thanks to whoever made Rick Grimes one hell of a flirty drunk. “Fuck, _Rick_ …” Negan groans, pulling the smaller man closer. Rick grins wickedly, his voice low and sinful as he rocks against Negan.

“Want you to suck my cock,” he murmurs against Negan’s skin. “Been so long since I’ve had that. Want you to suck me ‘til I come, then flip me over and spread me open and eat me out-” Negan makes a desperate sound at that, his hips bucking up into Rick’s, their surroundings completely forgotten. _Jesus H. Christ_ , he never could have imagined even in his dirtiest wet dreams that Rick had a mouth like this on him, but here he is, all filth and sinfully pink, full lips. “I never- I’ve never done that before but I wanna try it. Wanna try it with _you_. Want you licking me open and then fucking me so good with your fat dick until-”

“Hey, you two,” a voice that is decidedly not Rick’s rips Negan straight out of his little bubble, a and he unhappily drags his gaze away from Rick to look to his right and see a rather awkward-looking Simon frowning down at him.

“Hey, man,” Negan says conversationally, like Rick’s not straddling his lap and they’re not both rock hard in their jeans.

Simon shakes his head, amused. “Look, I called you a fucking Uber, alright? You’re both drunk off your goddamn asses and I really don’t think that you dry-humping each other in my bar is great for business. Something about public indecency laws.”

He gives a rather pointed look to Rick, who says, with an utter seriousness that makes Negan wheeze with unexpected laughter, “I am the law.”

Simon looks torn between amusement and burying his face in his hands. “Look, your ride’s out front. Get home safe. Don’t make me kick you out.”

Negan’s about to start arguing- not even out of anger, just for the sheer sake of it, but Rick dismounts him and pulls him toward the door. “C’mon, let’s go. Wanna get _home_.” His words drip with insinuation, and that’s all it takes to get Negan out the door and into the car. They both tumble into the backseat, giving drunken greetings to their accommodating driver.

It takes less than thirty seconds for Rick to wind up back in Negan’s space again- not quite straddling him this time, but their legs are twined together and Rick’s hand is on the back of Negan’s neck, pulling him forward. “Wanna kiss you,” he breathes, eyes bright even in the darkness of the car. “Can I?”

Negan answers him by threading fingers into his curls and closing the gap between them. His whole world narrows down to Rick- the way their mouths move slow and wet against each other, how his fingertips dig pleasantly into Negan’s skin, how Rick likes to use his teeth to nip at Negan’s lower lip. It’s sweet, it’s hot as hell, and Negan can’t get enough of him, licking into Rick’s mouth and tasting him properly. He’s all deliciously scotch-soaked, and Negan knows he’s got to taste the same way. Rick moans into his mouth and Negan swallows it down with another open kiss, one hand cupping his face and pulling him closer.

He hears their driver cough awkwardly and chooses to ignore it. He kisses a wet line down Rick’s jaw to suck a dark, possessive mark into his neck, and Rick crushes him closer. “Negan, fuck, _Negan_ …” he grabs one of Negan’s hands and guides it between his legs like he had at the bar, and Negan can feel the heat of his erection even through the layers of fabric. He runs one finger down the stiff line of Rick’s cock, and Rick whines, squirming. “Want you to make me come. Come on, Negan, know you can.”

The cough from the Uber driver is a little sharper this time.

Negan, ever the asshole, leaves his hand between Rick’s thighs, but stops rubbing at him. “Fuck, Rick. You’re such a fucking _slut_ when you’re drunk you know that?” He’s gotta be thankful for the alcohol loosening both of their lips- who knows how long they could have kept dancing around this until the tension eventually broke? They’re both drunk enough to be stumbling a little, but he knows there’s no way either of them are far gone enough to forget what’s going on, and come morning, he and Rick are going to need to have a nice little discussion about what it means that they were dry humping in the middle of a bar.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, Negan,” Rick croons, making him laugh heartily.

“Wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it, beautiful,” He slurs, nipping at the stubbly line of Rick’s jaw.

“You don’t get like I thought you would when you’re drunk,” Rick says.

“What did you think I’d be like?” Negan asks, curious.

Rick shrugs. “Kinda thought you’d get even louder. Start yellin’ at all the people starin’ at us funny.”

“You thought I’d be an angry drunk?” Negan frowns. It’s not completely off-base, he has to admit- there have been more than a few times when he’d drunk himself stupid on tequila and gotten into some rather heated arguments with other bar patrons. Some of it had gotten physical, and none of it was anything he was proud of. It was all a long time ago, though- once in college, before he had enough sense to know when to stop, and a few times after Lucille died.

Still, it stings a little to know that’s what Rick thinks of him.

But Rick shakes his head, looking bothered. “No, no, not like…not like that. Just meant you be more…you. You’re loud normally. Got a mouth on you. You just say what you’re thinkin’, no filter. Thought it’d be like that, but…more. Thought we’d go out tonight and I’d see you talkin’ to everyone there and bein’ real loud and makin’ people laugh. Just bein’ you, but…extra.”

He says it almost affectionately, and Negan’s heart squeezes in his chest a little bit. “Why would I need to go talk to anyone else when I got the most gorgeous fuckin’ man I’ve ever seen ready and willing in my lap, talking dirty in my ear?”

Rick smiles shyly, his face flushing a little at the praise. “Don’t know. Glad you didn’t, though.”

Negan kisses his agreement into Rick’s soft skin. “Me too, baby.”

* * *

It’s a short drive home, and they spend the rest of it kissing noisily in the backseat, much to the dismay of their driver. Rick is still kissing at the nape of Negan’s neck and groping his ass through the back pockets of his jeans when Negan pushes a generous tip at the poor man.

When he drives away, Rick grabs Negan by the wrist and tugs him toward the house, his voice dripping with honey. “C’mon, Negan. Kids aren’t home.”

Negan groans, stumbling after him, pinning Rick heavily to the front door and kissing him again. “Rick- Rick are you sure- are you absolutely fuckin’ sure about this? We’re drunk…” he hates himself a little for bringing it up, but he’d hate himself even more in the morning if Rick rolled over and sobered up and realized that Negan was nothing but a drunken mistake.

“Want you, Negan. ‘M not that drunk,” Rick insists, clumsily turning in Negan’s arms and unlocking the door. They tumble inside together and Rick flips their positions, pinning Negan to the door and making it slam shut with a bang, his palms flat against the wood beside Negan’s head as he presses their lips together in a hungry kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.

“We’re pretty drunk, Rick. You wouldn’t have said half that stuff if you were sober.”

Rick frowns at him, pulling back. “’Cause I was scared, not ‘cause I was sober. Fuck, Negan, I’ve wanted this for months. Wanted you for months. Been too fucking scared to do anything about it- been too scared to do anything since Lori…and I wasn’t sure if you’d want me.”

He looks so vulnerable, so fragile once the confession leaves his lips, and Negan can’t help but pull him into his arms, kissing his doubt away. “Rick, if you thought I wouldn’t want you, you’re real fuckin’ stupid.”

“Never was good at pickin’ up on stuff like that,” Rick admits sheepishly. “I want you, Negan. _Fuck_ -” he presses bodily against Negan’s leg, letting him feel the proof of it hot and hard against his thigh. “You want me?”

Negan growls, knotting his fingers into the back of Rick’s shirt. “I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I met you, Rick.”

Rick grins triumphantly up at him. “Good. Show me, then.” He leans in for one more slow, sweet press of lips, and just as Negan’s getting into it…he’s gone, darting up the stairs with a surprising amount of agility for someone still inebriated. Negan lingers for a moment out of sheer shock, chest heaving as he leans bodily into the wood of the front door.

He only gives himself a moment to let the fog that he’d been clouded in from the kiss lift, and then he’s bolting right up the stairs after Rick, eager and flushed and nearly tripping a bit himself. The door to Rick’s bedroom is already hanging wide open, so Negan just steps right inside, choking on his words when he catches sight of Rick.

Rick must have been busy in the thirty-odd seconds he was out of Negan’s sight, because his clothes have been shed onto the floor, leaving a sloppy, haphazard trail to the bed that he’s perched on the edge of. Negan stumbles to a halt, his brain fizzling out at the sight of Rick naked and waiting for him. He makes a damn pretty picture- the flush that had earlier colored his face and neck now spills soft and pink down his chest. _And a damn nice chest at that_ , Negan thinks hungrily. His eyes come to settle between Rick’s spread thighs, drinking in the sight of his cock, stiff and arching needily up from the thatch of dark hair beneath Rick’s navel.

Rick has this look on his face- hazy and flustered and utterly sweet- and it makes Negan come a little undone at the seams. “Holy hell, Rick,” Negan breathes reverently, shedding his jacket onto the floor and dipping down into Rick’s space. Rick looks up at him though half-lidded eyes, the pale blue of his irises striking against the reddened tint on his cheeks, and licks his lips.

“Your turn,” he says, eyes dancing while he tugs at Negan’s jeans, entreating him to undress. “Wanna see you.”

Negan smirks, big and bold, and forces himself to take a couple steps back so he can start stripping off the clothes that suddenly feel unbearably confining. “I know you do,” he croons, and if his voice is a little less smug and a little more hungry than he intended, so be it. “I can fucking _tell_ , darlin’. Now tell me, how do you want it? You want me to put you on your back, go real slow? Or you wanna sink down on my cock and ride me like the fuckin’ cowboy you are?”

Rick wastes no time in answering him, sliding off the bed and then turning bending himself right over at the waist, spreading his legs and leaving himself open in offering to Negan. “Like this. Want you like this,” he purrs, elbows resting on the plush of the bedspread. Negan wrenches his shirt off and kicks his way out of his jeans and boxers, all too eager to slide up behind Rick, his thighs warm and bumping the smaller man’s.

“Ooh, _darlin’_ ,” Negan says as he smooths his hands up over Rick’s heated skin, eagerly squeezing the flesh he’d been all but dying to touch for the last couple months, “You’re just ready to fuckin’ _go_ , aren’t you? Bent yourself right over for me.” He gives Rick’s ass a playful swat, and Rick yelps, his bare body jolting back against Negan. He relaxes after a second, and Negan tears his eyes away from the reddened spot he made on Rick’s cute ass to see him throwing a sultry look over his shoulder.

“Eat me, Negan. C’mon, I told you what I wanted, _please_ , I want you to-” The rest of Rick’s words are lost in a deep, throaty groan when Negan sinks to his knees and spreads Rick apart, his tongue running a wet, filthy line up over Rick’s opening. “ _Yes_ , _yes_ , _Negan_ -” Rick keens, and Negan dips his head again, devouring Rick with open, sloppy kisses and teasing pressure. _Fuck_ , the noises he’s making above Negan are downright _delicious_ , and the way Rick squirms and twists under his solid grip only spurs him on more. When he adds a finger to the mix, rubbing against Rick for a moment before sinking the digit inside, Rick makes a noise that’s nearly a whimper.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Rick grits out, hips twitching like he’s unsure whether or not to let them roll back. Negan shushes him soothingly, brushing tender kisses to Rick’s soft inner thighs, gently working the finger in and out.

“You’re alright, Rick. Gonna take good fucking care of you, I promise.” He licks back into Rick, finger and tongue working in sync, and by the time he slips in a second one, Rick doesn’t seem to mind the stretch anymore. He’s openly panting, rocking back into Negan’s tongue and fingers, soft whines escaping him whenever Negan crooks his fingers _just so_.

“Fuck me,” he cries out suddenly, one trembling hand reaching back to grope blindly for Negan. “Get up here and fuck me, I need you inside me.” Negan chuckles against him, a rumbling noise, and withdraws his fingers, straightening up to his feet again. Negan rubs his hands warmly over Rick’s ass, squeezing playfully.

“You sure you’re ready?” He asks, sincerely hoping that the answer is yes, because his own dick is hard enough to crack steel, and all he really wants at the moment is to sink it right into the tight heat of Rick’s ass.

Rick nods eagerly. “Yeah, yes, want this. Please…oh-” he points to a drawer on his bedside table. “Got- got lube,” he mumbles, and Negan thinks he can see that trademark flush creeping over Rick’s neck and shoulders like he’s suddenly shy. Negan pulls open the drawer and snatches up the tube, and as he’s drizzling a generous amount into his hand, he discovers the cause of Rick’s embarrassment: the tube is half- empty.

Negan grins wickedly, slicking himself and chuckling darkly as he lines them up. “Ricky boy,” he hums, the wet head of his cock teasing Rick’s soft opening. “Looks like you’ve been having some fun on your own,” he smirks. And he _knows_ that it’s been on his own, too- he’s grilled Rick about his sex life- or distinct lack thereof- countless times, enough to know that the only person that Rick’s been using that on is himself.

Rick squirms, head bowing, and _holy shit_ , Negan grins with amusement, even the tips of Rick’s ears are burning red now. “I- I might have been,” Rick admits, and then he grows bolder, turning his had to lock eyes with Negan from over his shoulder. “Get lonely. Get turned on. Kept thinkin’ about _you_ , your cock all the way up inside me-” Negan growls at that, putting some pressure against Rick and feeling himself start to sink into him. Rick somehow manages to look extremely pleased with himself while also moaning as he takes Negan in.

Negan bites his tongue to silence the loud groan he makes as he slides slowly into Rick, bowing over him at the push inward. Once he’s fully sheathed inside, he breathes deeply against the nape of Rick’s neck, giving them both a moment to adjust. “Fuck,” Negan grinds the word out between clenched teeth, feeling ragged already. “ _Christ_ , Rick, you feel so fucking good.” And he does, incredibly so- hot and slick and so wonderfully tight around his aching cock that he’s worried that it’s all going to be over too soon for his tastes.

“Move, Negan, _please_ ,” Rick whines, “I need it.” So he does, hands circling Rick’s waist as he withdraws almost completely before snapping his hips forward and impaling him again, reveling in the hungry cry that it tears from Rick’s lips. “ _Yes_ ,” Rick gasps, hands knotting in the rumpled sheets beneath him, “Fuck, yes, _Negan_.” His whole body clenches deliciously around Negan’s cock, and Negan feels his precarious hold on himself slip away entirely. He seizes Rick by the hips, driving into him again and again until Rick’s unabashed cries are ringing through the room, echoing like a siren song in Negan’s ears.

“That’s right, baby,” Negan moans, tilting Rick’s hips and encouraging him to arch his back into the thrusts, “You fucking _scream_ for me, Rick, you let the whole fuckin’ neighborhood know how good I’m fucking you.” And he does, answering Negan’s thrusts with sensuous rolls of his hips and echoing moans of Negan’s name. _Fuck_ , _he looks so good like this_ , Negan thinks- Rick’s a mess underneath him, sliding against the sheets with every push inside, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the mattress. Every part of Negan feels overheated, his head lost in the thick fog of arousal, and he’s dripping sweat down onto Rick’s back, the muscle there glistening enticingly.

Negan sees Rick’s hand disappear between his legs to reach down to stroke his shaft, and he shoots forward, grabbing the man’s wrist and pinning it back to the mattress. “Oh, _no_ , baby,” He rumbles low in his throat, “None of that now, Rick. Be a good boy.”

Rick whines openly, his hips rutting forward desperately. “Negan, Negan, _please_ , I need it, so hard, I’m so hard for you-”

Negan growls and picks up his pace, hips smacking against Rick’s bare ass. He briefly wonders if Rick’s usually this fucking needy and vocal in bed, or if drinking draws this side out of him. “I know you do, baby, I know,” he soothes, rubbing lovingly up Rick’s back. “And I’m gonna give it to you, I fuckin’ promise. But I’m gonna be the one who’s givin’ it, you got that, gorgeous? The only hand I want on that pretty dick is _mine_.”

Rick whimpers out a pathetic noise, but goes back to fisting the sheets in his hands. Negan takes him by the hips once more, lifting him up so that his feet nearly leave the floor, and drives into him hard enough that he knows Rick will probably be bruised and sore the next morning. “Oh- _oh_ , fuck, Rick,” he moans, pleasure coiling in him, so close to release that he can nearly taste it.

As promised, he snakes one hand around Rick’s waist, giving his swollen cock a squeeze that draws a keening sound from the man writhing underneath him. Negan’s hips snap into him roughly as he strokes, and Rick’s gone in moments, his head thrown back as he tenses under Negan and cries out. “N-Negan, oh, _fuck_ -!” And then Rick is coming messily over Negan’s fingers, and it’s that and the way Rick’s insides clench up around his dick when he orgasms that makes Negan shudder apart, groaning and whining curses and Rick’s name as he fills him up from the inside. Unable to get enough, he fucks Rick through it, hips stuttering forward of their own accord until he’s too oversensitive to do so anymore.

They’re both still panting when he finally pulls out, Negan’s fingertips still gripping Rick’s hips to keep himself upright. He glances down at the spent man beneath him, licking his lips when he sees Rick, fucked out and flushed, with slick trails of Negan’s come leaking down his thighs. He nearly gets hard all over again at the sight.

When Negan finally finds it in him release his hold on Rick, he finds that his legs are so weak that they nearly give out beneath him. He stumbles back before catching himself and pitching forward onto the bed, clumsy as a newborn foal. Rick laughs, breathy and weak, into the bedspread. “Glad I’m not the only one,” he mumbles sluggishly, wriggling up on the bed so he can cuddle up sweetly into Negan’s side. “Pretty sure that I couldn’t walk right now if my life depended on it.”

Negan rumbles like a cat, perfectly content, and envelops Rick in his arms, nuzzling into his sweat-damp hair. “Pretty sure I’d have to fuckin’ crawl home if you kick me outta your bed right now, baby.”

Rick nestles into the crook of his shoulder, warm face half-buried in the side of Negan’s neck. “Guess you better stay here tonight, then,” he replies, kissing sweetly at Negan’s skin.

Negan can’t think of anything better than staying here in this man’s arms, soft and secure. After a couple minutes of half-asleep cuddling, though, he forces himself out of the bed, the sweat-damp sheets clinging to him. Rick’s fingers grope at his stomach as he pulls away, and he makes a sad little noise that makes Negan smile fondly down at him. “Just give me a sec, darlin’.” He says, and Rick reluctantly lets go. Negan pads out the door and down the stairs on shaky legs, returning to Rick’s bedroom moments later with glass full of water that he tips to Rick’s lips. “Can’t have you gettin’ hungover now, can we?”

Rick drinks gratefully, chugging until water spills down his chin and into his beard. Negan refills the glass and drinks some himself before cuddling back up next to Rick. The smaller man naturally gravitates toward him, throwing an arm and a leg over Negan and pillowing his head on Negan’s bare chest. “Take good care of me,” he mumbles sleepily.

Negan envelops him in warmth, feeling himself start to drift off. “I’ll try my fucking best,” he whispers into Rick’s hair. He know that’s not what Rick was saying, and Rick’s already snoring softly against his chest, but Negan considers it a promise that he’s going to keep anyway.


End file.
